moonlight dancing in her hair
by EchoMoonHuntress
Summary: she is a different kind of beauty. - Minho/Zoe, au. For Thanatos Reincarnate.


**this was supposed to be done back in february but somewhere in the din writer's block just hit every time I tried to write this, so this fanfic has been delayed extensively. This is for Thanatos Reincarnate, by the way, who got me hooked on this pairing thanks to her fanfic, _The Huntress._ Go check it out, it's really good and *spoiler* it features Zoe/Minho too. yes i am totally ignoring the fact it'd be one-sided. shhhhh.**

 **elegant party au, zoe might be ooc because this is a romance fic. i'm still recovering from writer's block and it's also not edited very well. But I hope you guys enjoy it, and sorry for the delay again, Thanatos. okay i'll shut up now.**

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 **moonlight dancing in her hair**

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Zoe walks in the room with no grand entrance, no announcement, yet she manages to draw the attention of everyone in the room.

She ignores all the boys who gape at her, and makes her way to Sonya and Harriet and Thalia, and a minute later she cracks a smile.

It lights up the whole room, and Minho feels like smiling too when he sees her–but he feels like he might mar her smile, take away the beauty, so he doesn't.

Next to him, Newt snickers and Thomas exhales, and Minho turns, raising an eyebrow. "What are you shanks talking about?"

"She's a bloody keeper," Newt says, and he can't stop a smile from forming on his face. "I'm sure of it. Underneath that icy exterior, I'm sure that if you win her heart, she'll be yours forever. Question is, how will you do that?"

Minho shrugs and turns back to the group, watching as Harriet nudges Zoe and nods to them. Seconds later, Sonya dissolves into giggles, but not Zoe. Never Zoe. She instead fixes him with a hard stare, her eyes radiating disgust. Minho recalls that Zoe is not fond of boys, not much.

"She's looking at you," Newt whispers, not-so-discreetly. Minho ignores him, and keeps his eyes on Zoe. She tilts her chin up, and Minho can actually, legitimately _feel_ her repulsion of him, coming off in angry waves.

For a split second, Minho feels hurt - hurt, imagine that - but then he pushes it away. He would not feel hurt over a _girl_ , much less a girl like Zoe. And if she wants to play, fine. Best to fight back hate with the opposite, so he winks at her, almost in a flirtatious way.

Zoe's eyes widen and her cheeks flush red. She turns away.

"Oh, hell," Thomas says, his breath reeking of beer, "you're in some deep klunk."

"Shut up," Minho replies, and Thomas guffaws but says nothing.

He turns back to the group and finds Thalia talking to Zoe animatedly before jerking her head; Zoe rolls her eyes, but she moves towards Minho, her silver flats slapping against carpet. She's never been one for makeup and dresses and shoes, stuff like that. She doesn't need it, Minho thinks, but he never says it.

Zoe stops in front of their group, and just as she does the chandeliers up above dim, and the dark sky takes over the ceiling, stars twinkling just like those chandeliers. The moon rises above, and it shines a pale light on the girl. Zoe does not notice; perhaps she is used to it, Minho thinks.

"So, Minho," she says, and her voice is hard, like claws scraping against steel.

Behind him, Minho can hear Newt smirking and Thomas giggling like a little girl, but he does not focus on them. He does not focus on anyone except for the beautiful girl in front of him.

"Yes?"

She makes a face at him. "Were you just _flirting_ with me?"

"Why do you care?" He steps closer, and he can see the moonbeams brushing her hair, winking silver in spots before disappearing to somewhere else on her hair.

She frowns. "It's not wise of you to flirt with me. Unless you want a death wish."

He smiles and closes a bit of distance on them. "I'll take those chances."

They are close now, a little too close for comfort, but Minho doesn't mind it. He is close enough to hear her gasp slightly, to see her chest rising and falling quickly, to see the scattering moonlight on her.

He swears she possesses some kind of beauty, a different kind he's never seen before. Not in Teresa, not in Brenda, not in any of the girls he has dated before. No, Zoe is truly one of a kind.

But then she scowls, scrunching up her beautiful features, and snaps, "Just don't flirt with me, or I'm going to pummel your face into the ground."

With that, she turns around and flounces away, the moonlight following her.

"Alas," Newt says, and now he is giggling too, "you were so close, and then she slipped through your fingers."

"Shut up," Minho says, and Newt explodes into laughter. Rolling his eyes, Minho looks away and back at Zoe.

She is staring at him. Then she looks away, and as she does the moonbeams dancing on her hair fade away into darkness.


End file.
